


walked to first

by bishounen_curious



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Asexuality, Bad Jokes, First Kiss, Friends With Benefits, Grinding, M/M, Sexual Identity, Sexual Tension, Too many baseball jokes, Underage Drinking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-22
Updated: 2016-01-22
Packaged: 2018-05-15 11:49:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,796
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5784259
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bishounen_curious/pseuds/bishounen_curious
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kindaichi and Kunimi expected nothing good to come out of an Aobajousai Baseball party. But, they didn't quite anticipate <em>this</em>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	walked to first

**Author's Note:**

> i needed a change from my usual scheduled programming
> 
> please thank [chonpalm](http://absolite.co.vu/) for beta'ing this until it made sense

“Why’d we even come?”

“Beats me,” Kindaichi shrugged, leaning more of his weight onto the wall with his shoulders. “But I kinda didn’t want to stay home tonight.”

Kunimi half-rolled his eyes, lolling them up to glance upwards at his friend as he took a sip of his plain, unadulterated orange juice. “Me neither.”

“So…”

“Yeah.”

Silence descended over their own little section of the wall. Beyond that bubble was a different story though - everyone else was operating at maximum volume, energy on overdrive. Lots of screaming, laughter, music that he felt as well as heard, rattling his ribcage and raising warnings over his pulse and general well-being. 

High school parties tended to raise health and safety concerns.

Like Kindaichi currently was - he was running on an empty stomach (which was a dumbass thing because he knew he was gonna be drinking), was starting to develop a killer headache in the pinprick of his temple, and had already gulped down two rum and cokes because, well, he kind of didn’t know what to do with his hands, and that just led to taking drinks out of awkwardness and well - these things just sort of happened. 

Or at least it did to him.

Kindaichi sighed into his almost-empty drink. He wasn’t even enjoying the woozy warmth beginning to emanate through him - if anything, he just wanted to go home. Curl up in bed, let that pleasant ooze keep him content and comfy, and sleep off all the awkwardness of the night.

“I can’t believe Oikawa dragged us here,” he grumbled, or as much as he could over the pounding music. He scrunched his nose against the rim of his cup as a kind of afterthought, letting himself soak into the victim mentality he had grown accustomed to whenever their captain was involved.

“Y’know, he left a few minutes ago,” Kunimi supplied, bored.

“What? No way!”

“Yeah.” He cocked his head towards the staircase leading out of the basement they were in. “He left with a group of people. All of them had their jackets. So, I figured.”

“That jerk.” Kindaichi wished he could muster up an appropriate amount of bitterness and shock at his captain’s actions. Maybe it was just too predictable, or maybe the alcohol was already working its magic, but whatever it was, it was keeping him from sending Oikawa an angry, guilt-trippy text to get him to haul his ass back to this wreck of a social gathering. “He knows we both don’t know anyone here.”

Kunimi snorted, “It’s a baseball party, why would we?”

“Well, yeah, but,” Kindaichi’s brow furrowed, “he said he’d introduce us to some of them, I don’t know.”

Kunimi was quiet for a beat before he snorted again, this time a bit of incredulity coloring his words, “Did you _want_ to be introduced to anyone on the baseball team?”

“M-maybe! I’m not sure, maybe I’d like some of them?”

Downing the rest of his juice, Kunimi lowered the cup down to hang by his side and said definitively, “I couldn’t care less. It’s the baseball team.”

“And…?”

“They’re not even _good_.”

Unfortunately, he had been mid-drink when Kunimi dropped that shade bomb. And, sadly, his drink was promptly inhaled through his nose when he snorted and, well, Kindaichi was torn between laughter and gasping because _fuck that stung so bad_. He could feel Kunimi’s exhausted disbelief directed right at him as he struggled to compose himself during this trying time. That wasn’t anything new, but at least he could’ve offered to go get him a napkin or a tissue or something?

Kunimi, unsurprisingly, did no such thing. 

Then again not even he would attempt to navigate through this massive thicket of sweaty, drunk people on the way to the bathroom to clean himself up. No way. That was definitely too much work. So, as disgusting as it was, did he use his sleeve to wipe at his runny mouth and nose? Yes, he did. Kunimi didn’t even bat an eyelash.

“Sorry,” was all the other said, not sounding even remotely apologetic, and Kindaichi cracked a grin.

“That was harsh.”

“It’s true, though,” Kunimi shrugged dismissively, “their record’s terrible.”

“They’re gonna hear you and kick us out.”

“Good.”

Both of them shared a conspiratorial grin. But the moment only lasted for so long before both of them reverted back into their salty, silent selves. Wallflowers, observing the mess encasing them, making no effort to engage or participate. Really, there wasn’t a conceivable reason for them to stay. The only person keeping them there had up and left, so now they were free to do just what they wanted - return home and go to sleep or play some video games or whatever; they were rather not-proactive. They could do anything instead of hovering pointlessly at a party that neither of them really enjoyed. Yet neither of them were making any moves to leave.

Kindaichi could blame that reluctance of his on his buzz. Kunimi - well, he probably had his reasons.

Probably.

Almost like some weird cue had been given, Kunimi craned his head up, neck flush against the wall and simply stated, “I’m kinda jealous of Oikawa.”

Kindaichi snapped his attention to his friend and gaped at him like a fish out of water. “Excuse me?”

“He’s probably going to fool around with one of those people he left with,” Kunimi elaborated, his voice strangely normal - in tone, inflection, pace - as if he weren’t talking about him being jealous about their annoyingly flirtatious captain hooking up with strangers, something that was raising a plethora of alarms and questions in Kindaichi’s mind, “and I wish I had someone to do that with.”

Kindaichi had more questions. “ _What_?”

Kunimi rolled his eyes. Looking straight at him, he said, loud enough to be heard over the din of the party and then some, “I’m horny.”

Thankfully Kindaichi didn’t have any liquid in his mouth this time. He could choke on his own saliva and stale oxygen in peace.

As usual, Kunimi didn’t really offer much to go off of, as if he hadn’t said something so shockingly out of character. But, that’s always how he was - unbothered by the world, too lazy to really give a damn, unapologetic with his candor, unchanged since middle school. Yet, Kindaichi wasn't simply taking this at face value. There definitely was something more.

"You're—" Kindaichi agonized, for some reason physically crowding his best friend more into the wall with his inquiry. Why Kindaichi wasn't distancing himself was unimportant at the moment - he was on the search for some answers, and Kindaichi was gonna do whatever he could to get them. Even if he resorted to blurting out dumb shit to achieve his goal. "I thought - aren't you asexual or something?"

Now, _that_ had Kunimi suddenly reacting. Going on the defensive to be precise. ”I am."

"Alright, so um—" stringing together words in this situation would've been alarmingly difficult if he had been sober, and the fact that Kindaichi Yuutaro certainly could not be categorized as that in the slightest right now made this feat damn near impossible— "shouldn't you not... be?"

Alright, clearly that was not an acceptable thing to say because Kunimi's mouth slanted deeper into a frown and he physically inched away from him. Shoot, alright, he could fix this...

"Horny, I mean?" Kindaichi bit his lip, fumbling for clarity in this hazy situation in his even hazier mind, "You don't want to have sex, right?"

"I do," Kunimi piped up, consciously dropping his empty cup to the floor. The party was so loud they couldn't hear it hit the floor, and Kunimi crossed his arms. Kindaichi watched him lean against the wall as support, an anchor to help him as he reasoned with Kindaichi’s dumb, tipsy ass. "I'm just not sexually attracted to people."

Kindaichi opened his mouth, but he shut it instantly. Kunimi just looked more tired, especially at the prospect of having to further provide an explanation.

He’d probably feel guilty about this tomorrow. Right now, he just wanted to understand.

Kunimi sighed. "I get horny, just like you.” Kindaichi nodded, brow furrowing, and Kunimi continued. "It happens a lot. It sucks because I don't like anybody or want to like anybody. I just want to blow off some steam and be done with it. It's a hassle - it _sucks_.”

Things still weren't clicking in the taller boy's mind. And Kunimi definitely knew that because he just sighed again. "I want an orgasm so I can go back to my normal life, okay?"

"Go jerk off then?" If only it was so simple.

Kunimi glared at him. "Shut up."

"Hey! What, why?"

"Because you're drunk and annoying."

Kindaichi dropped his empty (or maybe not?) cup onto the floor and frowned, "That's mean."

"It's also true," the other shot back and went quiet.

"Have you ever kissed anyone?" Kindaichi asked minutes later, because he still wasn't satisfied. And also still a little hurt, nursing his emotional wounds with his damaged pride.

"...No."

"Me neither," he nodded sagely and crossed his arms. "I wanna though."

Kunimi was staring at the throng of people, his dark eyes soft and unfocused. Maybe he watching the pair of girls swaying with each other, their hips pressed together and noses barely touching. They were in his line of sight, that intimate tableau in the disorganized conglomerate of people. Well, Kindaichi was at least staring at them because _fuck, that was hot_ , his hormone and liquor addled brain really liked _that_. He’d watch that for a while.

But if the brunette was focusing on them he didn’t exhibit any tells of doing so. Kindaichi, however, most likely was. Heat was draining down through his face, his mouth parted with his deeper intakes of breath, the shakiness of his fingers definitely noticeable. Kindaichi swallowed again, wishing he hadn’t forgone his cup. It would’ve been nice to have that as a clutch, to drink and fidget with instead of descending into the spiral of arousal that he currently was trapped in.

Well, apparently he was horny, too.

Kunimi cracked his neck and boredly turned to face him, “Can I ask you something?”

The way he said it sounded like a personal attack. Kindaichi almost jumped out of his skin. He probably could read him like an open, very-large print book. It was gonna be a quip about him being just as hormonal as Kunimi was. Maybe a wisecrack about the half-boner he had (did he even have a half boner? he was too terrified to look down and check… and maybe he was having some issues with maintaining awareness in his body, okay?). Whatever it was, Kindaichi was bracing for the worst.

“Can I?”

Kindaichi’s throat was closed up and all he could do was nod stiffly (stiffly? Fuck Kunimi totally fucking could tell, dammit). 

Kunimi just looked so tired, but not exactly fed-up. “Do you wanna make out?”

Kindaichi’s throat was suddenly functioning just perfectly, because he was able to release a strangled, off-guard semi-shriek.

That in turn made Kunimi’s eyes widen, and suddenly he was drawing back in on himself, expression closing off and Kindaichi could tell that the brunette took this way more to heart than he was letting on. “Alright, fine, I was just asking. Don’t scream.”

“No, I just -“ He just _what?_ What did he just? He wasn’t exactly sure what he was arguing, exactly what he was trying to salvage at the moment. Was it helping the other save face? Save his own face? It sure as hell wasn’t to convince him that he actually did want to make out with him. That was dumb.

But, the fact that this wasn’t such a ridiculous proposition was kind of disturbing Kindaichi more than it should. He was _considering_ it.

His long, awkward fingers carded through the sweat-damp, cropped hair at the nape of his neck as he attempted to find some sort of explanation for his abrupt, embarrassing screech. 

“I, uh-” Kindaichi struggled, “what?”

Well, that was helpful. Motherfucker.

“Do you wanna make out?” Kunimi’s words were deliberate, edged enough to betray just how guarded he was, “I thought that was pretty straightforward.”

“…Why me?”

Kunimi rolled his eyes, “I’m not oblivious.”

“Huh?”

“I’m not pointing out your own boner to you, dude.”

Well, that answered _that_ question. “Uhhhhhh.”

“I mean, I know you. Pretty well. I’m not looking for a relationship with you. And I don’t think you’re trying to get with me either. And you like girls, right?”

The fact that Kindaichi hesitated to affirm that assumption made him feel that wasn’t entirely correct. Kunimi noticed that moment when his eyes widened, that moment of soul-searching that he went through, before he just swallowed and nodded, very lukewarm and unsure. Kunimi didn’t say anything about that; he just continued, more cautiously than before. Focusing his weight more into his left hip and leg, he crossed his arms and tried to look casual.

“Anyway, no one we know is here anymore so…” he elaborated, “and we’re both not looking for anything from each other beyond what we already have and… Well, I think you’re not into this. Sorry. Forget about it.”

Kindaichi was doing his best to save this situation. There were so many things not going to way he planned. Not like he had any plans to begin with, nor was he expecting anything, but retrospect makes you wise. 

Weighing his options was very difficult and taxing. Perks. Okay. _Let’s think about pros right now_. He could have his first kiss tonight if he took Kunimi up on his offer. He could blow off some steam, get the affection he’d been starting to crave a lot lately. Little bouts of longing that had been flooding into his chest, made his fingertips itch. He could get a little of that right now. Find a dark corner, give into what he wanted, let someone he trusted make him feel nice…

But here he arrived at the cons, or con, really. It was Kunimi. _Fucking Kunimi._ The guy he’d been friends with for over three years. The friend he followed to high school to play volleyball together with, the friend who always was there to eat lunch with, send a stupid picture to, a companion to bitch about everything with, one of the few friends his parents knew by name. That _Kunimi_. And he was seriously contemplating about making out with him. 

Heart palpitations - this was giving him heart palpitations.

Those familiar pale fingers on his neck, those thin lips on his own, tasting his breath, that always smelled like green tea and vanilla wafers, on his… Kindaichi needed to breathe. Or breathe less. His head was swimming too furiously, why the fuck did he drink tonight? Maybe then his brain wouldn’t be so cloudy and he could legitimately try to process this whole disaster…

…or maybe if he was sober he wouldn’t even give this proposition a second thought.

Well, that was unsettling.

He felt kinda bad for Kunimi, just standing there while he had a mental freak out about all of this. But he couldn’t just make a decision without thinking. It was painful. Because he was confused. And apprehensive. And indecisive. Like usual, but magnified by a million, or maybe even a billion, because this was the kinda thing that would change things, whether he said yes or no, and Kindaichi was definitely justified in feeling nervous about this.

But he had to get a grip. He could handle this without a cup to hold onto. 

Probably.

“Um,” Suddenly, things were accelerating way too fast. He didn’t know what had propelled him to speak, because there was no way in hell he had made a choice yet, but his mouth was moving against his own volition: “Okay, sure.”

Sure?

“What?”

He took a leap, pitched forward, started snowballing down this almost-ninety degree angle. He couldn’t take that back, so he was going with this. His decision.

“Let’s do it.”

Apparently that had been the opposite of what Kunimi had anticipated because a cough, an internal-double take was occurring in that smart little head of his. It was subtly noticeable in the way his facial muscles moved, but Kindaichi knew him well enough to know when he was surprised. With a change in posture, a redistribution of weight into an even center, Kunimi inched closer, eradicating the space he had created between them.

Kindaichi could taste his heartbeat - was that even supposed to taste like anything? - and now he wasn’t detecting green tea or cookies or even orange juice. He smelled a bit of sweat, heat, that generically-clean scented shampoo that Kunimi had used diligently since as long as he could remember. Kindaichi’s brain fizzled in functionality, but he wasn’t alarmed or at a loss— it was excitement. Then, the gentle scrape of a fingernail on the underside of his wrist was reassuring, grounding. Super nice, even. Kunimi just making contact, testing the waters, with a softness that he didn’t often express.

“You sure?” By the look of his face, Kunimi was sure. He wasn’t exactly smiling or even a little suggestive, his face was just… well, open. Relaxed. His eyebrows weren’t curved downward in its usual glower, his mouth wasn’t a line, his face wasn’t distinguished by lines. It was soft. Open. Just open. Even his lips were barely touching - Kindaichi could see the whiteness of his teeth peeking from behind them, the light from the flatscreen mounted on the wall catching on them. 

This was certainty, relief for Kunimi. Kindaichi liked knowing that he could read his micro expressions, because lord knew not everybody could.

Kunimi wasn’t an open book, but hell, he kind of was for Kindaichi.

Again, with that stupid nodding, Kindaichi was pulling resistance against the hand dragging nails down his wrist. Kunimi looked down at their touching hands, and Kindaichi’s fingers wrapped around the narrowest part of his wrist. The skin was warm, comfortably so, and his own fingertips rubbed at the flesh in an intimate way he had never touched the other before.

What the fuck was he doing?

“Um,” Kunimi’s voice, for the first time tonight, was drowned out by the noise of the escalating party, “wanna go… somewhere that’s not here?”

“Errghhh,” there went that split-second confidence, “where?”

“Bathroom?”

“Didn’t someone puke there?”

“…Okay, no.”

It was a lot of useless suggestions and no acting on them before Kindaichi just dragged his shorter friend towards a door. There were many doors in this basement for some reason. Guest rooms, an office space, storage. This baseball kid, whomever he was, may be shitty at sports but damn did his family have money. Both of them stumbled into what looked like a storage room. It was just boxes and a few half-filled book shelves and a fake potted plant in the corner in the world’s tackiest looking vase. It was fine enough, and no one was in here. And when they shut the door it was quiet, sealing them away from the commotion outside. So.

So Kindaichi felt himself get shoved against the wall and then the light was switched off, swallowing them both in the empty blackness.

It was completely dark, and they couldn’t hear the party anymore, but they could hear each other breathe.

Alright, that was moderately terrifying.

“Hey,” Kindaichi’s voice faltered, weakening like his sense of conviction, “can we turn -“

\- but the soft heat of a mouth against his, noses bumping, forceful and sure and a little premature had Kindaichi eating his words.

Oh. Owww. But _oh_.

Weight settled into his thighs, not his own but Kunimi’s, pinning him against the wall, solid and secure. Kunimi’s chubbier thighs were against his own that reminded him of string beans (why the hell did he always get compared to vegetables??). Thighs that were intentionally smushing against his crotch, all gently and wonderful and _oh god what the hell_ the lips were moving against his and he wasn’t sure how to handle this -

What the hell even was a kiss, anyway?

He tried to mimic what Kunimi was doing. Did Kunimi even know what he was doing? Maybe? Kindaichi had next to zilch on what a kiss technically was. Maybe use some tongue? Was that a little early? Maybe? Who knows. He wasn’t gonna embarrass himself anymore than he was now, that was impossible, so he just followed Kunimi’s lead and hoped for the best.

Kunimi was doing a lot, though. Which was surprising because… he never did _anything_. He was making a lot of wet sounds, giving a little suction, a lot of deviation to the corners of his mouth and down his jaw. Whether that was because they were in the dark or not was a mystery, but Kindaichi wasn’t actually minding them in the slightest. It was clumsy, uncoordinated but admittedly reassuring.

Huh. This was his first kiss.

Kunimi pulled away abruptly, breathing against the left underside of his jaw and asked, his voice a little wobbly, “Is this okay?”

Situationally? Physically?

Kindaichi just made a sound, small, a little grounded in a growl from the base of his throat. That was his answer. He tried pressing another kiss to Kunimi’s lips but ended up pecking his chin instead, and that made Kunimi giggle.

Kindaichi was a little nervous with how happy that sound had just made him. C’est la vie… right?

He’d fret over this tomorrow.

“Can I-?” Kunimi started, and Kindaichi just nodded, and bumped their noses again, and both of them cursed at the pain.

“No, idiot,” Kunimi swore, and pressed the flat of his palms onto each of the taller boy’s shoulders, pushing them against the wall, the pressure doing things inside Kindaichi’s stomach, “let me talk. And don’t break my nose.”

“Alright, what?”

“Can I -“ and then Kunimi stopped, faltering, filler sounds leaving his mouth like little whispers, “um, you’re really -“

Patience was not something Kindaichi was capable of. Especially now. His lips were dipping down and he was kissing Kunimi’s neck, tasting salt, a pulse, a shiver. Hands were shoving at his hips, but they were becoming less adamant and more forgiving when Kindaichi started to bite, because he felt like biting, that’s what people did, right? Whatever, maybe, but all that mattered was that Kunimi gasped, a sharp intake, something that sounded like a moan. A _moan_.

Kunimi was the first person he made moan. (Besides himself, of course.)

In his jeans, he felt himself throb. There was no way Kunimi hadn’t felt that.

“That,” Kunimi croaked, pulling him closer, nudging their hips, rolling them into each other, and both of them groaned into each other’s breathing space, “that’s what.”

“Wha?”

“Your dick. Can I?”

Kindaichi’s brain wasn’t working anymore, that’s what happened. “What?”

“I’ll get you off, okay?” Kunimi asked, breathless, final. “And you could do me.”

The darkness seemed a little suffocating all of a sudden. “Um.”

“Pretend it’s not me, if you want,” Kunimi offered impatiently, “I just… I want to…”

“Handjobs?”

Kunimi sighed, “You can’t see me, and I can’t see you. And I just. Yes. Okay… we both could benefit from this. If you’re up for it.”

Handjob. He was gonna get a handjob. Maybe? Kindaichi huffed, and rutted their hips together again, dry humping into the lump he could feel in Kunimi’s pants, Sure, steady. There, right there.

“Um,” Kindaichi breathed, his hands sinking down to hold Kunimi’s wider hips, squeezing his obliques through his long-sleeved shirt, “I don’t -“

“Fine, it’s okay.”

“No wait,” Kindaichi slurred, kissing into his neck again, feeling Kunimi melt, submit, “what about this?”

Kindaichi was grinding their hips, and he shuddered into his friend, pulling him close, nipping at his throat to keep himself from making an embarrassing sound. Which, technically, it was too late for that, but hey, at least he attempted to manage his pride.

Kunimi jokingly moaned, “You wanna come in your underwear?”

Kindaichi pouted, even though it wouldn’t be seen. “I’m kinda freaking out about you touching my dick.”

“Oh.”

“But… y’know. I still wanna… Get… y’know, _off_.”

“Oh… Well,” the contemplation in the other’s words was heavy, almost palpable, “I mean… I guess.”

“Pretend I’m some awkward rando at this party,” Kindaichi snickered. “A baseball player that got you to shoot your load in your pants. Not me.”

Kunimi had never cackled before. There came that giddy, twisting in his stomach again.

Kunimi snorted, and started to grind back, swaying confidently. That was his answer, his acceptance, “Alright, I’ll pretend you’re some dumb baseball player that drooled all over me.”

“Yeah! Wait, _what_?”

“Shh. Just shut up. Let’s do this.”

“Okay - Oh, _okay_.”

And that’s when Kindaichi for first time in his life became frightened that he would prematurely ejaculate. Because _holy fuck_ , he was feeling good, very good, friction was very good, it was making him _sweat_. All the little sensations were shooting down into his gut, prickling his nerve endings and swelling and tightening his insides. Things were happening so much faster than usual, his own hand could never do this at this rate, and he was gasping into Kunimi’s mouth in a kiss he hadn’t realized they had started. His neck hurt from leaning down at that angle and his hips were erratically snapping and rutting up and up, up up and _oh god_. Kunimi was biting his lower lip, breathing heavily through his nose, letting loose these little noises that were adding to Kindaichi’s pleasure and _alright fuck_ his insides were shaking, the _I’m about to shoot my load after a minute of stimulation_ feeling making him feel like garbage but still, Kunimi pulled him closer, licking into his mouth. Kunimi released this satisfied, stuttery noise down his throat, and Kindaichi just pictured how his face looked, how pleasure made it strain or didn’t, how he closed his eyes, tilted his head. He had no idea what Kunimi was looking like.

But it didn’t matter. Because Kindaichi’s eyes were clamped shut anyway as he let himself go and quivered into Kunimi like his life depended on it, panting harshly into his neck, trying to stay anchored to reality.

_Oh god_ he rasped, a deeper satisfaction than usual sinking into his bones and weakening his knees. _Oh fuck_.

Kunimi was rolling into him, and Kindaichi almost cried out from the intense overstimulation on his spent self, and he moved his friend to focus on his thigh instead. Kunimi took the hint, his movements devolving into arrhythmic heaves that accumulated moments later in a strangled, slightly higher-pitched gasp as he was pulled into the smaller boy’s body and gripped for dear life.

Shit. He was sticky and gross, but he was sated. And so was Kunimi, panting into his shoulder, harsh sounds against the sensitive dip where his throat met his torso, and it was making him shiver all the way down to his core.

He and Kunimi had just did _that_.

Oh god.

Yet, he wasn’t exactly freaked out. It was fine. It was just them. They’ve always been close, working together easily, taking on their designated roles. This was just another one of those things. Taking roles. Helping each other when they needed it. 

Kindaichi also couldn’t deny that getting off was exactly what he needed tonight. Having someone breathing against you, buzzing with that same afterglow, was kinda fucking great. A lot of firsts had just happened, yeah, but…

He wasn’t exactly regretful.

“Thanks, baseball guy.”

Kunimi inhaled, and exhaled with a light punch to Kindaichi’s gut. He grinned, but he knew Kunimi couldn’t see it.

“Do you wanna leave?” Kunimi clipped, matter-of-factly after a moment to regain his bearings, “I feel nasty.”

“Same.”

“It’s your fault.”

“Yeah, whatever.”

Kunimi pushed away from him, and after a moment of fumbling and a slight annoyed sound, the switch was flicked back on. Kindaichi saw Kunimi’s eyes contract from the stark, sudden light, and he rubbed at his own, adjusting to the sudden brightness.

When he lowered his hands, he saw Kunimi’s flushed neck was littered in marks.

For some reason, seeing that made things a little more concrete. A little more scary.

“Fuck,” Kindaichi groaned, and bit his lip. His friend blinked, tacitly questioning him, and all Kindaichi could do was touch his own neck in gesture and apologize.

Kunimi whipped out his phone and checked himself out in the camera and made a registering noise, but didn’t look too miffed about it. He looked indifferent. 

“It’s fine.”

“Yeah, but…”

“The baseball guy did it.” Kunimi deadpanned, “We got to first base. That’s it.”

Kindaichi, in that moment, knew he hadn’t made a mistake tonight, and for the first time in his life, he felt gratitude towards Oikawa.

**Author's Note:**

> http://bishounen-curious.tumblr.com/


End file.
